


A Peculiar Brand of Love

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Body Worship, Branding, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marking, Tattoos, post-sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 09:24:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: “Ow!” Rook hissed through clenched teeth as rough hands groped his rear. A snicker of amusement petered out of the baptist’s throat at the idle squirming of discomfort. “Hurry up.” Rook grumbled impatiently as a cold cloth rubbed across the warm flesh of his ass. His voice stifled by the crook of his elbow as he tucked the pillow further under his chest. “C-cold!” He whined.---John marks Rook with his very own brand of love. (Fic request)





	A Peculiar Brand of Love

“Ow!” Rook hissed through clenched teeth as rough hands groped his rear. A snicker of amusement petered out of the baptist’s throat at the idle squirming of discomfort. “Hurry up.” Rook grumbled impatiently as a cold cloth rubbed across the warm flesh of his ass. His voice stifled by the crook of his elbow as he tucked the pillow further under his chest. “C-cold!” He whined.

 

“Well, if you’d hold still this would go a lot faster.” The baptist chastised with increasing amusement at the whimpering noises. A firm hand pressed against the swath of exposed skin right above Rook’s tailbone, admiring the warm sun kissed tone of the deputy. The upward stretch of muscle as his body flexed and arched beneath him. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve thought of doing this.” John purred, leaning over the officer as he pressed their form further in the mattress. 

 

Not an ounce of clothing blocked his view of their form. His mouth roaming over the warm dip of skin leading down to the crook of their neck. The way they tilted their head to the side to expose more to eager lips. A smile pressing gentle kissing down their spine, nestled snug between bare shoulder blades where a the intricately laid lines of one of many tattoos rested. It was small, a little taste of what John could do. The black impression of scales, the signature of the justice system. Law and order, a perfect balance for his favorite man of the law.

 

Further down the way he was preparing them, a damp cloth to clean away the evidence of their earlier exploits between the sheets. Though, John’s own tattooed form was exposed to the warm air of his luxurious bedroom. The only modesty allowed came in the tight expensive silk boxers that caressed his hips. In one hand the cloth as it stroked the curve of Rook’s ass, in the other he prepared the Deputy’s very own blowtorch. What started out as a mocking joke when Rook discovered the Lawyer had his very own brand meant for marking leather and other odds and ends- (because everything the light touched in the Valley belonged to John and he avidly enjoyed reminding everyone of that tidbit.) -it quickly became reality when John’s teasing inquiry on whether deputy would like to be marked as well. 

 

Rook took the consideration seriously as he mused through their mid afternoon session of stress relief. By time he regained the strength in his legs, he had come to the conclusion that being owned wasn’t that bad of an idea. Especially if that ownership belonged to one John Seed.

 

“Oh, please do enlighten me.” Rook purred, tossing a cheeky glance over his shoulder towards the baptise. “ _ The _ John Seed spending his free time daydreaming about branding  _ my _ ass. If only Joseph knew what you’ve been up to.” His teasing was quickly silenced by the curl of fingers on his jaw and the needy crashing of lips swallowing up any further sass that could spill from the deputy’s lips. They parted with a soft sigh spreading between their bodies, twisting his head further to deepen the kiss. Rook’s tongue snaking out to explore, swiping across the bottom of John’s lip where he could still taste himself on the baptist’s mouth. The heat of desire curling between his thighs at the thought. When he parted from the man, it was Rook who was left chasing after those sly lips, watching the way they shone softly with saliva on the edges, twisted up into a cocky cheshire smile. 

 

“It’s not the only places I’ve thought of marking, deputy.” He preened as a strong hand groped the globe of Rook’s ass. One finger coaxing in between, feeling the lingering slick of their morning ventures. “Once it’s nice and healed, I’m gonna carve my mark so deep inside you-” 

 

Rook groaned, burying his face into the pillow as he blurted. “Fuck! Hurry up and do it already.”

 

“So impatient.” He smirked, gaining only a halfhearted glare in response. The look flickered back towards the headboard when John lit the blowtorch, the heat it gave off sent shivers up the deputy’s spine. The subtle roar of flames knowing it’s intentions. It was sort of fucked up at how turned on that had him but he didn’t care. He heard the hiss as the torch was directed towards the metal brand as the baptist carefully heated it until it was scored a terrifying cherry red. “Last chance to object.” John warned.

 

“Fucking do it already!” Rook nearly howled, burying his face into the pillow, biting it hard between his teeth. His toes curled as John rested his weight against the backs of his thighs. 

 

“Don’t move an inch.” John warned as he pressed the intricately shaped J.S against the pale flesh of Rook’s ass. One hand held the deputy’s hip firmly in place before the hot metal met the carefully prepared meat of his ass. The scream that erupted from Rook was a thousand times less sexy than John had anticipated but the way his thighs flexed beneath him was causing a stir where it probably shouldn’t. He counted every second as the skin sizzled with gruesome crackling, the smell alone was startling but the baptist remained a constant pressed atop the deputy. As Rook quieted down to soft whimpers, he removed the brand and admired his work. His hand rubbing slow gentle circles across his lower back, hushing the soft sounds that fell from his love’s lips. 

 

“It’s over now. You alright?” He inquired, voice as silky and concerned as ever. Rook nodded, breathing heavier than before. The hand rising to catch his cheek, features flushed red and eyes dewy with the prickling of tears. 

 

“Fuck! That!” Rook blurted, voice hoarse and brittle as he cleared his throat. “I am never doing that ever again! You can tattoo me instead. Hell, I’d let you carve me up over that shit.”

 

“Really now?” John mused.

 

“Don’t think about it.” Rook leveled a daring stare towards the baptist who raised his hands innocently, though the evidence of his crime still clutched in between his fingers. His initials smoldering with the lingering heat. 

 

John chuckled, drawing his hands up and down Rook’s back, watching the deputy sink into the pillows. “I will admit, it looks lovely on you.” He lowered himself to kiss along the edges of Rook’s ass, dancing around the newly acquired brand. 

 

Rook hissed through clenched teeth and wiggled his hips in a seductive sway. “You say that about every mark you put on me.” The deputy pointed out, tone softer and more relaxed as dutiful hands massaged along his thighs and hips. 

 

“That’s because you are a beautiful work of art. A piece meant exclusively for me.” The low purr in the baptist’s throat stirred those lingering shivers of arousal, returning the growing heat to its rightful location. His thighs spread a little further apart as John mouthed the dip of his lower back, slotting himself between Rook’s legs. One hand running up along his waste. “I’m going to fix this up and show you personally, how much I appreciate all that you are.”

 

A low hum rose to Rook’s lips as John’s mouth left faint traces of his possessive need, adding to the growing collection of black and blue marks littered across his body already. “I’m afraid that could take all week at this rate. Don’t you have people to cleanse and drag confessions out of?”

 

“The only confession I’m interested in hearing is yours, deputy.” Warm air dragged across the back of his neck, making the little hairs rise on Rook’s skin. The touch of lips along the shell of his ear pulled his head to the side, exposing the cluster of hickies already present. “You’re mine, deputy.” Those words were approved by the soft hum in the officer’s throat. 


End file.
